


Of Buttplugs & Cockrings (with much apologies to John Steinbeck)

by KylaraIngress



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, POV First Person, Sex Shop, Sex Toys, leap home AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2393459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KylaraIngress/pseuds/KylaraIngress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Al goes shopping for Valentine's Day. Sorry, Sam-lovers – he's only here in thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Buttplugs & Cockrings (with much apologies to John Steinbeck)

**Author's Note:**

> Written in January 2001, and putting up here as part of Throwback Thursdays.

The bell jingled overhead, making me give a slight jump. I can't believe I'm actually NERVOUS about this. Me – Al Calavicci, sex demon extraordinaire – nervous about visiting . . . .

"Hey, Al," came the sweet lilting voice of the salesgirl behind the counter. "Was wondering when you were going to show up. It's not a Valentine's Day sale here without your patronage," she giggled. 

Normally, I'd send back her flirting in true Calavicci style; Bridget was a real gem of a salesgirl, knowing instinctively how to deal with customers, and she and I had had an interesting first meeting when I started visiting her shop. But this was not a normal visit for me. This was the first time I'd visited the shop since Sam . . . (was it really possible?) . . . since Sam came home.

"Did I just slip into an alternate dimension," Bridget asked, coming out from behind the counter with a stack of boxes to be put up for display, "or did I just witness Al Calavicci blushing?"

Did I? I guess I did. The night Sam came home, I gave him the only 'Welcome Home' present I could think of at the time – myself. Our ability to touch each other, especially after such a hectic last couple of leaps, had manifested itself in a frenzied fuck that put my days when I was nicknamed 'Bingo' to shame. 

"So, who's the lucky girl THIS year?" she asked coyly, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks again as I realized what she was putting up. Dildos. Lots of them. All sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors. "Can you wait here for a second?" she asked, and turned away before hearing my reply, walking back to the storage area. As she did, my hands reached out of their own volition and picked up one of the boxes. I examined it, noting that it was about the size of Sam's . . . uh . . . 'Little Einstein' (hell, nothing 'little' about it!), and briefly wondered if he'd ever be interested in trying one out.

"It must be someone special, to get you to blush about coming in here," came Bridget's voice from the stockroom, making me drop the box in my haste. She walked back out to my side, continuing, "I still remember the first time you came in here, whispering things that made ME red, and asking me sweetly if I'd mind 'modeling' the lingerie at your apartment. Then, you didn't even flinch as I told you off, reading you the riot act about how even though this was an 'adult entertainment' store, I was not considered 'entertainment', and you turned around and called me a liar, saying my rant was the most 'entertaining' thing you'd seen all day."

I gave a laugh at the memory, temporarily forgetting the reason for my nervousness. God, I had had balls that day, filled with spirit and fire and youth despite the age my driver's license said I was. Looking back, I realized it was right after we had come to New Mexico, Sam and I, to work on PQL together. The thought of Sam sobered me quicker than a cold shower and I once again felt the anxiety fill me as to the reasons behind my visit this time.

"Uh," I finally stammered out – smooth, Bingo, "well, I guess it is someone special," I said, tiptoeing around the issue of gender. I still wasn't quite used to this aspect of my life. "But I'm just looking right now." 

She gave me a sly smile and turned to the next aisle. "Special enough for me to finally convince you to buy a set of these?" she asked, fingering a pair of fur-lined handcuffs. Her other hand toyed with the whips and nipple clamps that hung next to them. 

"Uh, no," I said. "No bondage for me yet. Six years of Hell left me with no desire to be tied up," I finished. It had been a long-standing discussion between us, but I realized she had won a small battle without even knowing it. I realized I would be willing to try bondage, if Sam asked it of me. I trusted and, yes, even loved him that much.

"So, who is it this time?" she asked, moving back to the counter to continue her stocking. "Can't be Tina, although only God knows why she decided to marry Gushie," she finished, giving a slight shiver.

"How'd you know Tina got married?" I asked, knowing I hadn't been in here since last year, when I bought items for what was to be our last night together. While being the only shop of its kind in Alamagoro, and me being a regular customer throughout my stay in New Mexico, Bridget and I had become fast friends and she probably knew more about the group of people working at the Project than the Committee. But, like any group of half-crazed scientists working on a top secret project, we had more than our share of closet perverts – and I wasn't the only visitor to 'Bridget's Boudoir'.

"Bena was in here for the bachelorette party," she smiled. I had to smile back, the picture of our resident shrink buying . . . uh . . . party favors. "Asked me if I knew of any good male strippers. I told her the only man I knew who could probably do a decent strip tease was your Dr. Beckett."

My Dr. Beckett? I felt my cheeks start to redden again at the thought, and quickly turned away so she couldn't see. She couldn't possibly know . . . could she? But I couldn't help the incredulous inquiry, "You've seen Sam strip?" and started working my way through the massage oil section.

"Only in my mind, Al," she said with an obvious heart-felt sigh. "I know I haven't seen him much in the past five years, but I will never forget when he came in here for YOUR bachelor party. The things he bought would make a prostitute embarrassed, but the Prudent Prince – as you call him – just smiled in that Midwestern modesty he has and said it was all for you." 

Ah, that would've been Maxie. That was one hell of a bachelor party – and looking back, hindsight bein' 20/20, I should've realized the depth of love Sam had for me to get past his propriety and give me that blowout. Was a hell of a lot better than the marriage, let me tell you. Of course, considering I married her to demonstrate my heterosexuality to Sam (and myself), I shouldn't have been so surprised when she started foolin' around on me. 

"I've often wondered what kind of a party you'd throw for him in return," she smiled. "You going for the Blue-Ball-Berry Love Liquor again?"

I stifled a nervous laugh – she had my buying habits down pat. I had always figured blueberry was just fruity enough to be entertaining. And I thought back to the few alternate timelines where I HAD given Sam a bachelor party worth not writing home to mom about. But this timeline, Donna hadn't even met UP with either of us – leaving StarBright far earlier in this history to marry some other guy and move to England with him. And, I realized with a pang of awareness, Sam hadn't really found anyone to give that vast store of unconditional love to. Except me. 

"Not today, babe," I finally answered. "I told you – I'm just looking." ( _And getting up the nerve to admit it's SAM I'm looking for_ , I added in my head.) I turned into the next aisle, and gave another laugh as I saw a vast array of pornographic materials – videos, magazines, and trading cards. Now that was ONE leap I still wished would've happened – I would've paid good money (in more ways than one) to have seen Sam as a porno star. Well, maybe now that we were lovers, he might be willing to star in a . . . personal home movie.

"You were just thinking about 'em, weren't you?" Bridget said right next to me, making me give a jump. I hadn't realized she was still so close. At my obviously confused look, she continued, "Your face just lit up like last month's Christmas lights, and I know it wasn't because of good ol' Chloe there," she finished, pointing to _The XXX Files_. (I couldn't help but notice a special section in the porns designated for gay men, and I briefly wondered if Sam would mind if I rented one some time.) "Now you've REALLY got my curiosity piqued, Al – I don't think I've EVER seen you smile that wide with any of your prior conquests before."

God, she's stubborn. And why was I having so much trouble with this? I mean, if anyone would understand kink, it would be Bridget. And I felt my sexual feelings for another guy ranked right up there with bondage on the kinky scale. But this wasn't just another guy; this was Sam. And what I felt for him went beyond special; hell, it defied description.

"Yeah, I guess my mind was wandering," I hesitated. Shit, this was more difficult than I thought. "Actually, it's Sam I'm looking for," I finally admitted.

"What?" she asked, leading me to the ladies lingerie section. "Mr. Morals too embarrassed to come to my place any more? I know he's been out of the loop for the past five years or so, but he should know I'd never give him grief for visiting here. Or is that top secret work of yours just too binding to get him to visit my little ol' place?" She stopped her teasing long enough to do her sales job, asking, "Does he prefer red or white?" and holding up a sheer bikini set with little bows covering the vital parts.

"Uh," I hedged, "that's not what I meant." Damn this was hard. "I'm looking to buy something for Sam," I spat out. 

"Oh?" she asked, her eyebrows quirking at the question. "For Valentine's Day? Follow me, I know exactly what you're looking for," and before I knew it, she grabbed my hand and dragged me off to another part of the store. 

"Here we go," she said, and I paled again as I saw which section she had taken me to. Gag gifts. Fake 'penis stretchers', salt shakers in the form of two cows humping, condom roses, and inflatable dolls were surrounded by various 'party games' and books like _101 Reasons Why Teddy Bears Are Better Than Men_.

Was she doing this on purpose, or was she REALLY this dense?

"Uh, that's not what I meant," I said, turning away from her. My left hand rose and pinched my nose in frustration, my eyes closing as I thought over my words. I opened my eyes, moving my hand down to stroke my chin, and was no closer to a resolution to my situation.

"Oh?" she asked, and I turned towards her. My mouth cricked as I saw the slight grin on her face.

"You know, don't you?" I dared her.

"Know what?"

"About Sam and I. That . . . that we're . . . uh . . . closer now."

She just cocked her head, acting confused.

Fine. If she wanted to play it like that, I could always oblige. "You know our relationship has moved beyond 'just friends', don't you?"

She finally broke down with a laugh. "Al, you should know you can't hide anything from me! I've known how you felt about Sam since Maxine! Let me take you to the men's gifts," she giggled and moved down the aisle. 

"Since Maxine?!?" I couldn't help but ask, my voice cracking like I was going through puberty.

"Hell, I knew you guys were made for each other the first time I saw you two together! I was curious how long it would take for both of you to realize it." 

As we moved into the clothing section, I continued my line of questioning. "But how did you know we actually moved beyond it?" 

She gave me a smile, the type that used to set my heart (and other parts of my anatomy) on fire until Sam, and sighed, "Because, you doofus. SAM was in here the other day, buying you THESE!" and she pointed to a pair of silk boxers. I then started laughing as I saw them, hearing my own voice echoing in my head, 'Oh, they've got little hearts and bearsies on them!' The boxers were an exact duplicate of the ones Tamlyn had bought him on that damn leap, and I hadn't stopped giving Sam grief for wearing them. The fact that he bought them for ME said a lot about our relationship – that despite all his forays with women in the leaps, despite all our past problems, he loved ME . . . and he loved me NOW. "I know they were probably supposed to be a surprise," she continued with another laugh, "but I just HAD to see your face!"

"I'm glad my predicament amused you," I said with a half-felt sneer. But, I couldn't be too mad at her. I would've probably done the same in her place. "And now, my dear Bridget, you can help me buy an appropriate return gift for our boy wonder."

"But I thought you were 'just looking'," she teased back.

"Hey, with Sam, I can't just look," I finally admitted, thinking of the next few purchases I would be making in this shop in the future, the shopping list already quite . . . interesting. It was definitely going to be a great Valentine's Day, every year from now on.


End file.
